


Perfection

by Lots_of_Little_Pink_Clouds



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/M, This is not a healthy relationship by any means
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-15 20:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16070270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lots_of_Little_Pink_Clouds/pseuds/Lots_of_Little_Pink_Clouds
Summary: A budding sociopathic Death Eater meets a muggleborn psychopath, whom he eventually falls in love with. Evan Rosier/OC





	1. A Fated Meeting

 

There was a girl sitting in _their_ compartment.

Evan Rosier stared, hands propping the door open, eyes narrowed.

_She was sitting in his seat._

“ _Excuse_ me?” he asked. Already clad in shabby Hogwarts robes, trimmed in Ravenclaw blue, her dark hair shifted as she looked up from the 6 th year Transfiguration textbook open on her lap. Freckles dotted the bridge of her nose and she stared back at him with large, dull brown eyes.

“You are in my seat,” he frowned. “It would be _appreciated_ if you would leave.” The girl’s eyes flickered to his newly tailored robes, lined with Slytherin green trim, glanced over the Head Boy badge on his left breast before returning his stare. He met her unblinking gaze, raising an eyebrow at her silence.

A moment passed. Then another. They stared at each other, daring the other to look away.

She smiled.

Evan tensed.

“Of course, my apologies.” There was no inflection in her voice.

She stood from the seat by the window – his seat – and opened the battered trunk beside her. Stashing her book away, she shut the lid and with her wand – had it been in her hand the entire time? – tapped the top. Immediately, the trunk began to float. She turned to him. Evan pushed away his unease and moved aside, holding the door open so that she and her floating trunk could fit through.

Without another word, she exited the compartment and began making her way down the crowded hallway.

“Who was that?”

Evan glanced back to Benjamin Wilkes, the seventeen-year-old’s bag flung over his shoulder and his hand in his pocket. Evan returned his gaze to the girl, her trunk following behind her as she disappeared down the corridor, consumed by the crowd.

“Clearly no one important,” Evan replied, before moving out of the way and gesturing for Wilkes to enter first. “After you.”

“Your politeness is noted.” Wilkes mockingly bowed before slipping past Evan into the compartment.

“It was my _pleasure_.” Evan rolled his eyes.

Entering the compartment, he slipped off his coat and tossed it onto the other boy. Wilkes hissed and fumbled with the fine material. Evan flopped onto his seat next to the window. The other boy tossed the coat back. It hit Evan in the face. He grimaced.

“Have you seen the others?” Evan asked. He took his rumpled coat and began to meticulously fold it. His fellow seventh year shrugged.

“No, though I did spot Avery being fussed over by his mum. Something about how she’s going to miss ‘her little Harry’ when he’s off at Hogwarts.”

“You didn’t think to help him?”

“He’s not here, is he?”

The two shared a smirk as the door opened. A haggard Harrison Avery entered the compartment with an amused James Mulciber. The two sixth years dragged their trunks in behind them before shutting the door. Avery slumped onto a seat, propping his feet up on his trunk, evoking an unimpressed stare from Evan. Mulciber threw his onto the rack above their heads before joining them. Avery shot Wilkes a withering glare.

“Don’t think I didn’t see you slink off, Wilkes.”

“Sorry mate. Not getting in the way of your mum anytime soon. ‘Specially when she’s saying goodbye to her ‘darling boy.’”

“Bastard.”

“Did either of you see Snape?” Evan interrupted.

“Didn’t take you for the type to worry about ickle fifth years, Rosier.”

“Fuck off, Mulciber. Did you see him, or not? He borrowed one of my books last year and hasn’t returned it.”

Mulciber leaned back, shrugging. “Nope. But you know Snape. Probably with his pet mudblood.”

Avery and Wilkes grimaced. Evan sighed.

“Which book was it?” Wilkes asked.

“ _Dark Arts through the Ages_. First edition. Father was right pissed when he heard I leant it out.”

“Snape’s usually pretty good about returning books.”

“Usually. Next time, I’m telling him to borrow from you instead.”

The door opened again. A miserable Severus Snape stumbled into the compartment, covered from head to toe in feathers and dead leaves. Mulciber immediately locked the door behind him. Avery took his trunk and put it on the overhead rack to give them some room. Snape sunk onto the seat next to Avery with a heavy sigh.

Evan pulled out his wand – elm, dragon heart string, 11 ½ in. – and pointed it at Snape. “Scourgify.”

The feathers and leaves shuddered but refused to move. Evan’s eyes narrowed.

“Finite Incantatem.” The feathers and leaves began to flutter to the ground. “Wilkes, open the window. Wingardium Leviosa.”

Slowly, the mess disappeared. Snape sighed again.

“Your assistance was… appreciated, Rosier.”

“As usual,” Mulciber smirked. Snape shot the sixth year a glare before opening his trunk.

“Your book.” He handed the heavy tome to Evan. Evan opened it and quickly flipped through the pages. Then he snapped it shut.

“Ever the perfectionist,” Mulciber drawled, leaning back in his seat and tucking his arms behind his head. Evan rolled his eyes. He pulled his shrunken trunk out from his pocket, placed it on the floor, and tapped the lid.

“Finite Incantatem.”

The trunk grew back to its normal size. Evan opened it and put the book inside, then shrunk it once more and put it back in his pocket. He smirked at the envious stares of the younger years.

“One day, you too will be able to use magic outside of school. But today is not that day.” He turned to Snape. “You are never borrowing anything from me ever again.”

Snape frowned, but nodded.

“I can’t wait to get to Hogwarts,” Avery said. He stretched, groaning as his muscles popped. The others grimaced.

“Agreed,” Wilkes replied, “It’s too quiet at home right now.”

“Your parents upset about your sister moving out?” Mulciber asked with a sharp-toothed grin. “I’d be too if it were my sister."

Evan sneered. “Really Mulciber?”

“She was quite fine, if you’ll recall.”

“But must you be so crude?”

“Someone has to be.”

“Back off, Mulciber,” Wilkes interrupted, “Besides, she’s getting married next year. And there’s no way she’d drop the guy for you.”

“I can still dream. Speaking of sisters, how is yours doing, Avery?”

“Oh _fuck off_.”

Evan shook his head as the group bickered amongst themselves. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

They all fell silent.

Snape, who was the closest, tucked the bookmark back into the book he had just pulled out, stood, and opened the door.

“Yes? Is there something we can help you with?” The others smirked at his dismissive tone.

“I forgot my coat in this compartment.”

Evan’s eyes narrowed at that familiar, toneless voice. He glanced around before noticing a black muggle jacket on the rack above. He reached up and pulled it down.

“This one?”

Snape moved out of the way and returned to his seat. Evan held the coat to the girl from earlier. She gave him a thin smile. Her head tilted as she looked up at him with her dull brown eyes.

“That’s the one. Thank you, Evan Rosier.” She took the coat and disappeared back into the throng of people. Evan closed the door and locked it.

“That chick was creepy,” Avery shuddered.

Evan returned to his seat. The girl faded from his mind as the conversation picked up once more.


	2. A Bell Tolls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A budding sociopathic Death Eater meets a muggleborn psychopath, whom he eventually falls in love with. Evan Rosier/OC

 

It didn’t take long for Evan to get back into the swing of things.

Life at Hogwarts was as busy as ever. Between Evan’s Head Boy duties, Quidditch practice, schoolwork, tutoring, and general school drama, he rarely caught a break. He sighed, collapsing into one of the leather chairs in the Slytherin common room. Halloween was fast approaching, and the snakes’ humble abode was decorated with orange and black streamers, pumpkins that cackled whenever someone passed by, and skeletons that hung from the ceiling – Professor Slughorn had insisted. Wilkes looked up from his books – Transfiguration homework, Evan noted – and raised an eyebrow.

“You alright there mate?”

“Busy.”

Wilkes winced. “With all the stuff you’ve got, I’m not surprised. Don’t push yourself too hard. At this rate, you’ll likely pass out, or something.”

“Or something?” Evan smirked.

“You know what I mean. I don’t know how you do it. I’d probably die from the stress.”

“Good time management and a lot of patience.”

“Still.” Wilkes leaned back, burrowing into the couch. “It’s good to take a break every once in a while.”

“I suppose.” Evan frowned, crossing his ankle over his knee. Wilkes grimaced.

“Come on, Rosier. Take some time to yourself. You deserve it.”

“I have a lot to do, Wilkes.”

“We’re only here one more year. When’s the last time you went to Hogsmeade?”

“Third year. If you’ll recall, that’s when The Pumpkin Pasty Incident happened.”

“But _I_ still went back.”

“After a full year of nothing. And only after Avery bribed you with free blood pops.”

“I’m still surprised _you_ said no – they were free blood pops!”

Evan rolled his eyes.

“ _Anyways_ ,” Wilkes said, snapping his textbook shut, “You’ve been so busy with everything else going on, the others have started to get restless.”

“I’m sure they can entertain themselves. They’re not first years anymore, Wilkes.”

“Yeah.” Wilkes leaned forward and whispered, “But with that new Dark Lord on the rise…”

Evan glanced around the common room quickly. Most of the students present were busy with assignments, talking with friends, or keeping to themselves. None noticed the hushed tone which Wilkes was speaking in. Despite this, Evan shot the other boy a warning glare. Wilkes raised his hands.

“I’m just saying. They want to practice. DADA is a joke, after all. Besides,” Wilkes winked, “We need our instructor to give pointers.”

Evan sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good man!” Wilkes grinned then stood from the couch and stretched. “Now come on, let’s grab lunch. I’m starving.”

Evan stood from his chair and smoothed out the wrinkles in his uniform as Wilkes packed his things. He then followed his fellow seventh year out of the common room.

Upon reaching the Great Hall, they took a seat at the Slytherin table and grabbed lunch. They were eventually joined by Mulciber, Avery, and Snape.

“Well Rosier?” Mulciber asked, plopping into the seat across from Evan. “We gonna practice later, or what?”

“What is this, an intervention?”

“Yes.”

“No,” Avery interrupted, “This is lunch. We can talk about _that_ later.”

Mulciber dramatically rolled his eyes, but let the matter drop. “Pass the chicken, Snape.”

Conversation flowed between Wilkes, Mulciber, and Avery, filling the silence. Occasionally, Evan would contribute while Snape made non-committal noises. As Mulciber and Wilkes began bickering about the nature and evolution of chamber pots – how they got onto that topic was anyone’s guess – Evan felt the heat of someone’s gaze on him. He causally stretched, glancing about the Hall.

And there she was. The girl from the train.

An open book laid in front of her, her dark hair tied back in a loose ponytail. A half-eaten plate of food sat to her right and an empty cup of tea sat to her left. Her dull brown eyes, Evan noticed, would carefully scan the page in front of her before darting up to stare at him. He caught her gaze the next time she did so.

She smiled a thin smile before returning to her book. She didn’t look at him the rest of lunch.

He felt her gaze as he left.

Suddenly, the girl seemed to be everywhere.

She watched him in the Great Hall, eyes unblinking, gaze unflinching, even when he stared back. Once, they had a staring contest that lasted ten whole minutes – it only ended when Wilkes pulled him into a discussion about racing brooms. When he looked back, she wore her typical thin smile that made Evan shudder.

They frequently passed each other in the halls. Once, Evan purposefully bumped into her and knocked her books to the ground, just to see how she reacted. His friends laughed and they moved on. When he turned back, she remained standing, staring as he retreated. Her thin smile burned into his memory. He walked to class faster.

She watched him play Quidditch. She sat in the Ravenclaw stands during games, writing in the leather-bound journal on her lap. But her gaze frequently shifted to him. His shoulders tensed when he felt her levelled stare – he became more aggressive in his plays, tossing the quaffle harder and faster, and coldly ordering Regulus Black to “Find that _damn_ Snitch, already.”

“Your admirer is staring at you again,” Mulciber said, smirking. They sat in the library, working on various assignments. Wilkes glanced up. Beside him, Avery pulled at his hair, viciously biting his lip as he glared down at his Charms essay.

“She’s real persistent,” Wilkes remarked.

Evan pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I mean, if you don’t want her, I’ll take her.” Mulciber’s eyes gleamed.

“Would you really, Mulciber?” Snape drawled. “She’s muggleborn.”

Mulciber’s expression darkened. He shuddered. “Never mind then. You can keep her, Rosier.”

As Wilkes questioned how Snape knew the girl’s blood status - like it took a genius to guess - Evan glanced in the girl’s direction. She sat several tables away, her books open in front of her. She twirled a quill between her fingers, tilting her head to the side when their eyes locked. He frowned.

With a crack of his neck and a sigh, Evan stood and packed up his things. “I’ll catch up with you later.” Throwing his backpack over his shoulder, Evan strode out of the library.

He didn’t need to look back to know that she followed.

Evan darted through the crowds until he entered an empty corridor layered in dust. Armor sets lined the walls. The paintings that hung above them depicted macabre scenes of the torture muggles inflicted on witches and wizards during the late 15th century. Evan examined a picture of three hanged witches, swaying slowly in an imaginary breeze when he heard her approaching footsteps. She stopped beside him.

“It is quite rude to stalk someone.”

“Yes. But how could I not?” Emotion flooded her voice. “You, Evan Rosier, are _fascinating_.”

Evan looked down at her – she was at least four inches shorter – and saw her dull brown eyes lighten. She smiled.

“I have _never_ seen someone so _perfect_.”

He flinched. Turning on his heel, Evan walked – Evan Michael Rosier _did not run_ ; _Rosiers_ did not run – back down the hallway as fast as he could.

Her tinkling laughter echoed behind him.

It reminded him of funeral bells.


	3. Gradual Descent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A budding sociopathic Death Eater meets a muggleborn psychopath, whom he eventually falls in love with. Evan Rosier/OC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ancient Studies is Advanced History of Magic. They specifically focus on ancient societies, such as Egypt or Greece. Advanced Magical Theory is a class that combines both Arithmancy and Ancient Runes and focuses on the theory of spell creation.

 

Her name was Ava Chen.

It cost Evan two weeks and a few favors, but he finally got the name of his mysterious stalker. By making an opportunity for himself, he snuck into Professor McGonagall’s office and looked at the school registry – as Deputy Headmistress, the Transfiguration professor had access to the registry in order to assist her with writing the letters that got sent out every year. Evan was annoyed about losing those favors, but it was worth it in the end.

Ava Chen was in Ravenclaw and was one year younger than him – he had known that much since September. She was a loner that spent most of her time in the Ravenclaw dorms or in the library. Her favourite classes were Ancient Studies and Advanced Magical Theory.

When he watched her in the Great Hall during meals, Evan discovered that she always drank Earl Grey tea at breakfast, water during lunch, and treated herself to pumpkin juice at dinner. Her favourite food seemed to be mashed potatoes. Nine times out of ten, she would scoop some onto her plate if it was available. At lunch during the week, she would bring her textbooks to the table and study: Mondays was reserved for Transfiguration; Tuesdays, for Charms; Wednesdays, Potions; Thursdays, Herbology; and Fridays, DADA. On Saturdays, she doubled up on studying both Ancient Studies and Advanced Magical Theory.

Sundays were different. On Sundays, she would bring her leather-bound journal to the table. Evan watched as she wrote in it. He watched as she continued to stare at him.

Evan took some time to learn her schedule. Ava Chen was a creature of habit, he noted, and she rarely deviated from her routine.

That was convenient for him, this way he could avoid her.

Despite this, she always seemed to know where to look for him. She knew the castle almost as well as Potter and his Gryffindor friends, and it never took her long to find Evan. Once he realized that his own associates were one of the contributing factors to this, he told them in no uncertain terms that they needed to give him some space. Mulciber found it funny.

“Never thought I’d see the day Evan Rosier would run from a girl.”

“Lay off him, Mulciber,” Wilkes said.

“Maybe we should give her some incentive to leave you alone,” Avery suggested. His eyes shone at the prospect of testing out the new curses that they were practicing.

“Don’t bother,” Evan replied, “I have everything under control.”

“Let us know if you want a hand.” Avery shrugged and returned to his books. Wilkes raised an eyebrow. Evan waved him off and left the common room.

After this event, the chases that ensued would be, dare he say it, fun. Evan’s heart leapt in his chest every time he spotted her, and increased as he slipped away. He knew she followed, every single time.

Such a game they played.

Sometimes he was successful in escaping her notice. Other times, she had the upper hand, especially on days when he wasn’t at his best. Avery’s idea had some merit though – Evan couldn’t keep this up forever. But in order to do that, he needed to know what would best irritate her.

November became December as Evan learned more about Ava Chen.

She was muggleborn. She liked wearing her Ravenclaw scarf everywhere, even to class. She was on good terms with her dorm mates; she kept her side of the room clean, never took too long in the bathroom, and wasn’t too noisy (if only his dorm mates were as unassuming as her, Evan thought). She was also Christian, likely Protestant – Evan presumed this as he was quite familiar with the Protestant Reformation due to his own family history*. However, she did have a Chinese background, as her dorm mates noted that every year in February, she always celebrated Chinese New Year.

The most frequent thing that Evan noticed, however, was that no one ever called her Ava.

Instead, he always heard Maria.

He wasn’t sure what the significance was, but it was his only lead. Besides that, there wasn’t much information on the illusive entity known as Ava Chen. She was nobody.

It appeared that he needed to confront her again.

Evan’s stomach flipped at the prospect.

* * *

It was on a blistering cold Sunday when he found the time. Wilkes and the others tried to convince him to go to Hogsmeade, but Evan refused, claiming that he needed to finish up an essay.

It wasn’t a complete lie. He did have an essay due. In two weeks.

Wilkes’s brow furrowed. He was in the same class.

“You sure?”

“Bring back some blood pops for me,” Evan replied. “I’ll be in the library. You can find me there if you get back early.”

“Watch out for your stalker, Rosier,” Mulciber said. Wrapping an arm around Avery’s and Snape’s shoulders, he dragged the two boys from the common room.

“Be careful,” Wilkes said.

“I plan on it,” Evan replied.

“When do you plan anything?” When Evan raised an eyebrow, Wilkes raised his hands. “Besides homework. I’m _just_ saying, girls can be… temperamental.”

“Oh, I’m _well aware_. I’ll be careful.”

“Good. We should be back around three.”

“Get _going_ , Wilkes.” Evan smirked. Wilkes saluted him before turning and hurrying to catch up with the others.

Evan watched the wall close up behind his friend before his smirk disappeared. He sighed. Shoulders back and head held high, he returned to his room to grab his book bag. Then, he left for the library.

Sometime after he passed the Great Hall, he acquired his stalker. Evan refused the urge to run, instead striding with renewed purpose. He found a table towards the back, some place no one would see them together unless they were actively looking. Evan sat and pulled out his books and a quill. He turned the pages of his Charms text, twirling the quill in his hand.

The chair across from him moved. He looked at her. She pulled her jacket off, followed by her scarf, which she then meticulously folded and placed on her lap. She met his gaze and smiled.

“Hello Evan Rosier.”

He put the quill down. “Ava Chen.”

Her lips twitched. “You learned my name.”

“I learned _a_ name.”

“Indeed. Maria is my middle name.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why refer to yourself by your middle name?”

“I’ve always preferred it.”

“It’s just a name.”

“Just as Rosier is only a name.”

Evan’s eyes narrowed. “My name means more than you know.”

“Just as _mine_ means more than _you_ know.”

“Ava. A variation of Eve. Eve was the first woman created by God, who committed the first sin. She was then responsible for making Adam do the same.”

“ _Maria_. Also Mary or Miriam. Mother of Jesus, the son of God. She represented the ideal woman at the time: silent, supportive, chaste, and virtuous.”

“ _No one_ is truly virtuous.”

“So we should not strive towards an ideal?”

“We should strive for it. But we must also overcome it.”

Her smile widened and she leaned forward. “And how would you suggest we do that, Evan Rosier?”

“To reach perfection, we have to work hard and perform our designated roles.”

“And if those roles are constricting? If those roles only hold you back? You just stated we must overcome the ideal, wouldn’t those roles be the ideal necessary to overcome?”

Evan crossed his legs, leaning back. He frowned. “Those roles are there to provide order. A society without order is a crumpled society.”

“You doubt that.” Her eyes shone. She shifted in her chair.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“A society with designated roles is a society with hierarchy. Those at the bottom of the hierarchal structure are those who are deemed weak, those who are deemed _imperfect_ , _less than ideal_ by society’s standards.” She spat the word imperfect like it was a disease. “Tell me, Evan Rosier, why is that?”

“Why is what? Why are those considered weak deemed imperfect? If they are imperfect, than they have not overcome the ideal. And if they have not overcome the ideal, they must be too far down the hierarchal structure, making it impossible to overcome it.”

“I disagree.”

“Really? Do share.”

“I believe overcoming the ideal is a matter of individual strength. Look at those that have lived a long time. Their experiences have shaped them, changed them. They have learned from those experiences and have become stronger. Those experiences make them wise. People listen to them and consult them. Look at Albus Dumbledore.” Evan scoffed. Ava leaned across the table. Their noses briefly bumped against each other. “You may scoff Evan Rosier, but Albus Dumbledore is considered to be, by the general populace, a wise and great wizard.”

Evan inhaled through his nose. “You are not wrong in that. But being wise does not make one infallible. Being weak does not mean it’s not impossible to be strong. Or for the strong to be weak. To believe that there is only black and white, when in reality everything is a shade of grey, is illogical. If we follow that logic, overcoming the ideal should be next to impossible for _everyone_.”

The two stared at each other, noses barely brushing. Evan’s knuckles clenched the arms of his chair. Ava tilted her head – Evan noticed that if she leaned forward any further, their lips would touch. He swallowed.

“You, Evan Rosier, are _fascinating_ ,” she whispered.

“I try not to disappoint.”

She giggled. He felt himself smiling.

Never, in all of his years, had he debated with someone so intensely, and on such an intriguing topic. When he returned to the Slytherin common room, it was well past seven. He and Ava took their debate to the kitchens and spoke over dinner, their only witnesses being the house elves and the paintings. They spoke about history, about magic, about muggles, anything they could think of. Upon realizing the time and unable to stop himself, Evan suggested that they meet up again another time. She agreed and they had gone their separate ways.

“Where have you been?”

Wilkes looked up from his game of chess against Snape as Evan walked into the room. Evan shrugged. “Library.”

“You weren’t there when I checked,” Wilkes said.

“I was in the back.”

“I checked the back.”

“Honestly, Wilkes,” Snape snapped, “You’re like a mother hen. If you are so intent on figuring out where Rosier has been, we can end the game here.”

“Don’t let me interrupt you,” Evan replied before Wilkes could respond, heading towards the stairs to the boys’ dormitory. Once out of sight, he took them two at a time. He slipped into the bathroom upon reaching his dorm and as quickly as possible, jumped into his four-poster and spelled the curtains shut.

He did _not_ want to explain this to Wilkes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *For those who are interested, here’s the information on the Rosier family history. It’s very long, I’m sorry.
> 
> The Rosier Family’s Formation & Catholic Roots: As a result of the War of the Roses in the 15th century, much like their muggle counterparts who married to form the Tudors, two wizarding members of the House of Lancaster and the House of York married to form the Rosiers. Due to the prevalence of Catholicism within European households, the new Rosiers brought their religion into the wizarding world with them. Because of their ties to British nobility, the Rosiers were held in high esteem. Talk of their religious leanings, however, was common due to paganism being the dominant religion in wizarding Britain. As such, they were ridiculed behind closed doors.
> 
> The Protestant Reformation & the Fischer Feud: As wizards live long lives, the progenitors of the family, Maxwell Lancaster and Aveline York, were still alive and retained their connection to their muggle roots. Because of this connection, they heard word from their family of the reformation which was occurring in the 16th century. Around this same time, the Protestant Fischers moved to Britain from Germany. Things quickly escalated between the two families, resulting in a blood feud which lasted several generations.
> 
> The End of the Fischer Feud: The Rosier-Fischer feud was known and quietly ridiculed throughout wizarding Britain due to their beliefs contrasting that of the majority. In the late 18th century, however, the Forgotten Lord rose to prominence, a dark lord whose name has been forgotten. He killed off what remained of the Fischer family, leaving the Rosiers victorious.
> 
> Taliesin Rosier & the Rosier Family’s Break from Catholicism: The Forgotten Lord, much like the dark lord Grindelwald, emphasized the importance of blood purity. His main focus however, were the old pagan ways in a time where those traditions were starting to die out. Taliesin Rosier, the head of the family at that time, embraced the Forgotten Lord’s cause. He officially declared that the Rosier family was no longer Catholic, and fully accepted paganism. It was not long after when the Forgotten Lord was defeated that these traditions began to die out once more. Taliesin Rosier was killed soon after by Gregory Moody in a duel.
> 
> The Rosiers’ Paganism: Due to Oswald Rosier, son of Taliesin, the Rosier family retained their paganist lifestyle. In recent times, however, because of the influx of muggleborn and muggle-raised children, the Ministry of Magic has placed more and more restrictions on rituals and other practices that could be seen as “dark” by the new arrivals. Wizarding families are, in increasingly larger numbers, moving away from paganism in favor of other options. This in combination with the Forgotten Lord’s defeat back in the 18th century has resulted in paganism no longer being the dominant religion of wizarding Britain. Families like the Rosiers, however, continue to practice the old ways, despite it becoming more difficult to do so. Michael Rosier, the current head, is looking for ways to bring the old traditions back. His allies include the Averys, the Blacks, the Mulcibers, the Notts, and the Wilkeses.


End file.
